200

This won't be nearly as good as 300, with Gerard Butler and his computer enhanced abs. 

This is my two hundreth blog.  I reread a few and noticed a theme.  I write about my dogs, my boy, my girls and my love.  I write about ridiculous things and I tend to get off on crazy tangents. 

You know, I wanted to write for a magazine.  I didn't want to do fashion pieces or anything like that, I wanted to be the last page.  The page you usually go to first if you are like me.  I read the last page of magazines first.  I have done it for years.  I think it might be because the final thought is usually the best. 

Well this isn't my final thought so don't expect great things.  Who reads this anyway?  Danny, obviously.  I am Peggy to his Hank Hill- he must read my musings.  My kids so they know who I love the most.  My dear friend Carly, who usually is the first to like my link.  Secretly, I have hoped that one would go a little further.  One blog would sneak its way onto someone else's page and would spread its little written word wings and fly to a mind, a heart very far from mine. 

Barron, he wouldn't read it, but he would listen as I read it aloud for him.  Harlow listens until it is time to lay on the landing.  Emmitt doesn't listen.  He just yells over me.  Sophie sleeps.  Elsa sits about twenty feet away and stares at me. 

I wish I would have known to do this when Danny was gone, when Mom was sick, when Ashlyn was skipping school.  I think it would have been so good for me.  Of course, I would have not had as many topics to write about now if I wrote then. 

200.  Two hundred times when I could say my piece and no one had to tell me to shut up.  Two hundrend times when I found my peace in the written word.